


Reflections

by Orion Arthur Rietveld (ameowicafjones)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Background Relationships, Canon Compliant?, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Inspired By Tumblr, Post-Canon, This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen, grown up Angus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameowicafjones/pseuds/Orion%20Arthur%20Rietveld
Summary: Sometimes memories change everything.(Inspired by a post on @whyismagnuscrying)





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Magsainsley and I have been discussing soooooo many headcanons lately, and that’s almost entirely what this is. Stay tuned for more on all this bullshit. :)
> 
> -Bjorn!

Magnus had thought for a very long time that he would never again have the opportunity for such memories. He knew he would never love anyone the way he’d loved Julia. And so he’d accepted a great many things that often came along with not having a spouse—namely, not having a child. He’d never thought himself to be the parenting type. Not without her.

And then he remembered.

So much happened in that time he’d so quickly forgotten. Some things he couldn’t really wrap his mind around. His prolonged _fling_ with Taako. His momentary willingness to destroy an _entire world_ to keep it from the Hunger’s grasp. 

But none of that mattered so much.

He recalled his first years in this world. Lup and Barry had been exploring a wooded area in the midst of winter. Such a trip wasn’t particularly unusual. Until they returned. They brought with them a baby, a little boy who was sick and weak and far too cold. They explained to the crew that they’d found him, alone. Abandoned.

They’d nursed him back to health and treated him as if he were their own son. Because he _was_ their son, in every way but blood. 

Then Lup left. And Barry… Barry tried his best, but he was so torn up over her leaving like that. His wife. Gone.

Magnus understood now, but he hadn’t so much at the time. He’d begun taking care of the baby himself for the most part. He’d had to take care of his little sisters back home, after all. It was his instinct at this point.

When Magnus remembered, he didn’t realize at first. Until…

“Sorry about the cookies, little dude. I’m… I’m sure they were delicious.” There had been a hint of sadness in her voice, he realized.

Once everything was over and done with, and he finally had time to think, it hit him like a fantasy bus.

But Lup and Barry were reapers now. They couldn’t really raise a child.

He could.

Angus was seventeen the first time he brought Ivy home. He had spoken of her in the past, first of how she was a great friend, then of how he wished she’d see him as something more, and then of how she did. They walked into the cabin hand-in-hand, their faces adorned with the timid, cautious smiles of two young people who were desperately in love and terrified of messing it up. Magnus understood. He remembered how it felt. He did his best to act accordingly. And he tried his best not to cry.

She was tiny. Tinier than Julia. Her pretty blonde hair was pulled up into a bun that he could guess was meant to be neater than usual, and she wore a pretty white dress that she kept tugging at. She was skinny in a different way than Angus, a way that he’d wonder about for a while. Angus did too. Eventually, they took notice of her tendency to forget to eat often. They were less worried after that, but they tried their best to remind her to eat.

But what struck Magnus most was the way she looked at Angus, with that soft, helpless gaze. And the way Angus looked at her, with the furrow in his brow and that confused, breathless look that Magnus recognized only because he’d worn it himself all those years ago.

And he knew, even before they did.

Ivy moved in with them shortly after that first time. Her mother had died unexpectedly, and she was left to take care of herself. Except, she wasn’t, if Magnus could help it. Ivy quickly became like a daughter to him. 

When she learned of Angus’s hearing problems, she came to Magnus to learn sign language. She picked it up quickly. The first time she signed something for Angus, his face lit up and he almost cried because he was so happy. Magnus hadn’t realized it would be a surprise. He did cry.

Angus and Ivy rarely fought, and when they did, they hardly ever raised their voices, and they never shouted. This was where they were different from Magnus and Julia, who, while loving each other very deeply, were both rather hot-headed and had once or twice gotten into shouting matches in their first year or two together. Angus and Ivy were much calmer in general, though, so Magnus supposed it made sense that they were always able to find good compromises quickly and quietly.

Angus was nineteen when he asked Magnus to help him build a cabin of their own. Ivy wasn’t allowed to know. It was a surprise. Magnus understood. Was it Raven’s Roost or was it his family specifically that triggered this apparent tradition of building cabins to somehow, maybe, hopefully make it more likely that _she_ would say yes?

They built and furnished the cabin over several months. It was finished a few months after his twentieth birthday. That was when they finally took Ivy to the nearby, yet fairly remote spot where they’d decided to build the cabin. Angus asked her to marry him on the front porch. (She nodded vigorously and cried in response. Magnus cried too.)

About a year later, they had a small wedding, of which the guest list was mostly made up of Angus’s very complicated and inter-dimensional family. Magnus had cried.

And now, a little less than a year later, here they were. Magnus was crying again, still tears of joy. Just… a lot more of them. As he was holding Angus and Ivy’s child.

Ivy was asleep, exhausted after a long, sleepless night and a complicated birth. She’d be fine, Angus and Magnus had both been assured. She just needed plenty of rest. 

Angus stood beside him now, smiling down at the little boy in Magnus’s arms. “His name’s Magnus Steven,” he said quietly.

Magnus looked at him, awestruck. “Really?”

Angus nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve… had lots of parents. I still? Have lots of parents, and everyone’s great. I love all you guys, but none have been even close to as amazing as you.” He looked over at his wife. “We talked about it a lot, and she feels the same way. She never had any sort of father figure before you. You’re her first dad. When you told her she could move in with us? You took her in at the most difficult point in her life, after knowing her for, what? A month? And you kept things from potentially getting so much worse for her than they did because of it. Just that might have saved her life. And you’ve done so much more for us since. You’ve made a huge difference in both of our lives, and I–honestly? I wouldn’t want our son to grow up to be like anyone else.” 

Magnus smiled, now crying _even more_ than he already had been. “I’m glad I’ve made an impact on your lives, buddy. And you have no idea what it means to me that you’d name your _firstborn_ after me. That’s… really somethin’.” He turned his gaze down toward the baby… his grandson, he supposed. Fuck. How’d that happen? “I don’t know, I think he’ll grow up to be real great if he takes after his parents. You’re both wonderful people, and I’m proud to be your dad.” And then he looked back up at Angus, and he realized just how exhausted his son looked. He’d been at Ivy’s side the entire night, and Magnus realized there must have been at least a moment when he hadn’t been sure she’d make it. “You should get some rest, kiddo. I’ll take care of little Magnus here.”

Angus nodded gratefully, gave his father a quick, careful hug, then went to get some sleep.

Grandpa Magnus looked down at baby Magnus again, placing a kiss on the tiny boy’s forehead. “I never thought I’d be much of a parent without you, Jules,” he said quietly. “Guess I was wrong.”


End file.
